


Broken Family, broken hearts

by SkylerSkyhigh



Category: Undertale (Video Game), Youtube RPF
Genre: Broken Family, Broken Reader, Depressing Thoughts, F/M, Family, M/M, Sad, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, angast, depressed reader, male reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-09 13:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8893033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkylerSkyhigh/pseuds/SkylerSkyhigh
Summary: Sean Nicholas was an average teenage male with a lot of problems. Dealing with depression, bullying and a broken family is hard. Really hard when you don't know weather you love them or hate them. He left his family without a word. Now, after many years of living alone, he meets a small monster family which made him think about his family. How will he deal with these confusing thoughts? We'll find out.





	1. Pain

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fanfiction so don't take it seriously but this fic tackles real life problems. If you are triggered, sorry and don't read.

I laid on my bed scrolling through my phone with a bored look. The phone itself is pretty shitty. It's a hand down touch screen from my father while he uses a new better phone. This is the third? Fourth hand down he gave me? The sky outside is dark but pretty cloudy. What do you expect? This place isn't known for snow or any season other than sunny, cloudy or rainy. I sighed and looked through YouTube. I was searching for some fanfiction that I could read but nothing good was popping up. Maybe YouTube has something good? I scrolled through the music page, animation page and others but nothing came up. I groaned and rolled over. I stared at my white ceiling and my cyan walls. My room was like a rainbow shit on it. There was every colour imaginable here. I have a red queen sized bed with green, light blue and pink pillows. A dark red thin blanket and a single wall painted yellow. I have no idea why, the one who painted my room said it would bring out the cyan. I scoffed, I may be 15 but I'm not stupid. They probably ran out of paint or thought they could mess up someones room. They may had a bad day or just not paid much? Why do my parents got bad architectures and workers?

Speaking of my parents, my dad is outside in the living room watching TV - or messing with his phone - with my younger brother. He is playing his tablet - angry birds if I'm correct -. My mom is... I don't really know. She is one busy bee and a stressed one. She works day and night, day at her workplace and night doing house work. I am sitting in my room. It's where I spend most of my time in my house. I'm an introvert, what do you expect me to do? I sat up and looked at my messy desk. Yup, another hand down, this time from my uncle- who by the way hates me. It's a normal plastic table with metal legs. It's pretty messy.  Books scattered on the top part of the double table held together by book holders. The side had a pile of books and papers from my school - which I'm to lazy to organize. A couple trophy's here and there. They're all useless anyway. A snow globe my aunt bought me and other various reading/writing materials. I frowned at a glass frame where a small handmade picture was framed. It was a picture of a game character I love, Sonic. Honestly it's overrated but I love him. But my dad thinks it's a waste of time and space.

_"Why do yo have this? It's useless. Try framing something else."_

His voice echoed in my head and I felt a pain spark in my chest and I clench my fist. It hurts, it hurts a lot when he said that. What's wrong with my passion with painting and game character? Especially a character who inspired me to do something. A character who gave me hope? I don't really follow the games, just the story. In my eyes he's a hero. Someone who's brave, kind, honest and friendly. I was a loner and still am. He gave me hope when I needed it. But no one cares. No one cares about what I like or what I do. Not even my family.

I know I'm not suppose to say that but it's somewhat true. Sure my mom gave me support by buying me art equipment and stuff but never what matters. I don't really need that much art equipment. If no one wants to see it than all of that money used to buy them don't matter. I don't remember how many times I've showed her my art yet I only got the usual five second approval before she - like everyone else - turns away. It's discouraging. I poured love into my art yet they don't get the proper credit they deserve. Is my art really that bad? Am I really that talent-less? I tried showing it to my friends yet I got the same reaction. A second of wow before they turn away to chat with their friends, completely forgetting I'm there. I tried, I painted very hard. I made beautiful detailed work with great shading and stuff but again, the same results. My teacher said it was nice, even my art teacher who framed my work on the wall or kept it in his personal file. I was happy, for a few minutes. Teachers are inclined to be nice. To give encouragement to their students. So it never mattered, it's all white lies. When I was young, I painted tow green hills and a round orange or yellow sun. A sunset/sunrise. I fell in love and kept making the same ones over and over again. Now, I make actual art and they looked ten times better than the ones I've made before. I've even made an exact replica of a dinasour using a pencil. I was getting better and I know it. I tried and tried to make my art look better, to get the praise I so desperately need, but in the end, I kept all of my previous artwork in a dusty file and my art stuff are sitting under my table collecting dust. I gave up trying. It never mattered anyway.

I shook my head and grabbed my headphones. I pressed play on my music icon and let the music drown out all my depressing thoughts. I love music. I'm a music brain- which means 80-90% of my brain is hardwired to music. I love almost all kinds of music. Music helps drown out all of my depression talk. Ah depression. How I hate them. It was subtle but I eventually knew. It stared when I was in elementary school. During that time, my parents were even busier than now but had more money. I got toys, games, anything I wanted. I was young so I didn't think much other than more, more, more! But, I was clueless about the outside. I wasn't very self aware about anything around me. So, I missed four years of memory. I was completely alone during those times. But I was able to entertain myself. I became the weirdest kid in school. I wasn't very smart either. Just average but my dad ha big dreams for me.

He and my mom had very rough lives. If you believe them, you question how they're still sane after all they've been through. But to keep my sanity, I took it with a grain of salt. they had rough lives so they worked had to give us better ones but not in the way that they thought. Sure, we have money and such but we got almost zero love. Just gifts and trips. Heh, I remember that one time where my mom put a lego toy person in my huge birthday cake at school. There was enough cake to feed my entire class and the teachers. I got a present and a memory, even if it was brief. But, even with all the gifts and everything we wanted, there was no contact, no love. I was young so I didn't think much about it. My mom wanted to improve that so we moved. She quit her job and got another one where she had more time for me and my brother. It was a change we weren't ready and we had a tough time adjusting. I just rolled with it like I always do. But even then, there was no contact. I was so used to being deprived of care that I became unneeded of them. I just watched TV and do what I always do. Then we moved again, into a bigger house. Not an apartment. It was then that I was in high school.

I realized how lonely I was and my goal was to make lots of friends. I didn't. I was clueless to everything and I did things that didn't go well to my piers. It was a small mistake but I realized, you can never make mistakes in school. It was a horrid first year. I hated school after that. Not to mention hormones raging. So, I became needy for attention. I searched for it from my parents only to be shut down. I was scared, sad and confused. It was too much for me. I did the only thing I could do. I became independent.

I watched, experimented and learned. I taught myself about physiology of the human brain, how it wokred, what triggers each emotion. I became independent and I improved myself. I was not the clueless crybaby I was before. I was mature and brave but at what cost? My sanity. I became depressed. I took an online test and I was depressed. I even checked the symptoms, I got them all. Weather it was stress or loneliness, I was depressed. I was scared and educated myself on it. I needed to be strong to deal with this. I changed to quick, there was not enough time for me to adjust normally. I was not the normal teenage kid anymore. And it sucked. It sucked not being able to fit it. 

I sighed and shook my head. i stood up, removed my headphones and walked to my table. I reached into the monstrosity to pull out a piece of paper. I opened it and sat down on my chair to read. It was the symptoms of depression that I took a long time ago. I read it and the concept of depression over and over again. I have it all and recently, digestive problems. I held back my tears as I read over them. I hated this. I hate being depressed, I hate my life, I hate my family! If you can even call it a family. My bedroom door opened to reveal my dad. He looked at me annoyed but i didn't look into his eyes. I was scared.

"Go to sleep." he commanded nonchalantly. There was no room for argument.

"I know but I can't-"

"Go to sleep." he said in a finality to his tone and closed the lights before closing the door. I sat there holding the piece of paper in my hand dumbly for minutes as I heard my parents bedroom door close. I didn't move after I was certain he was in their room before I sat the paper back on the pile and walked onto my bed. I laid down on the bed, belly down.

I checked my phone to see the time. 1.54 am. Still three hours too early for me to sleep. I sighed and laid down for a moment trying to sleep but I can't. I closed my eyes and tried to doze off but it didn't work. Why am I trying? I tried it before. Maybe it's because I'm tired? Or is it because I wanted to make my dad proud for once. I chocked on a sob before tears fell from my eyes. I tried to hold them back but the dam broke and I sobbed. I sobbed hard while the pain in my chest grew. I tried. I tried to explain to him.I tried to explain to him how I can't sleep because I'm depressed. Of course he didn't listen. He- like everyone else- never listens. I have insomnia. They take it was a joke. They think it's a _joke_! Is it a joke that you _can't sleep on days on end_ because of reasons you _can't control_?! That it's a _joke_ to have almost no sleep at night!? That you're _tired all the time_ and still be _awake_ till the _sun rises_!? Be _awake_ until you _pass out_ from **_exhaustion_**?! I sobbed brokenly but silently. No use to upset them anymore. I brought this on myself, I have to deal with it.


	2. Family Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We look into the family problems a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talk about depression and suicidal thoughts. Be warned.

I blinked my eyes sleepily. I winched them back close a few time before I can open them back up. I looked around my room realizing that I'm sleeping while hugging my torso sized pillow. I push myself up by my hands and looked outside. The sun is not up yet but the sky is slightly lighter than normal. I fumbled blindly for my phone and checked the time. 5.43 am. I sighed and aid back down with a huff. I must have passed out last night. I buried my face in my pillow. It's way to early to wake up. And I guarantee I'll me the equivalent of the walking dead at school today. It's bad enough that I sleep late night but I have to wake up early. Both against my will. I tried to go back to sleep when my phone rang in my hand. I lifted my head and closed my alarm. 6.30 am. I blinked. I must have dozed off. I sat up sleepily and rubbed my eyes. The bed is just hypnotizing me to go back to bed. I am tempted but I can't. I rolled lazily out of my bed and walked around my room. I stretched and looked at my nightlight. I bit my lip. If anyone knew I had a nightlight they'll make fun of me.

_"What a baby!"_

_"Aw what's wrong? Scared of the dark little baby?"_

_"You need mommy to tuck you in bed?"_

I could hear those words already. I sighed a defeated sigh and closed the light. It's not that I'm scared of the dark. I know I'm not scared of the dark. It's just-... Another symptom of depression is anxiousness. I feel anxious in the dark and everywhere. I just don't feel safe in my own house anymore. I sometimes feel like I'm in danger. Like something bad is going to happen anytime soon. I sometimes hear things when it's just all in my head. I'm imagining it all and I know it but I'm too scared. I'm scared I'd get hurt. Weather it's from something or someone. I looked away and turn on my bedroom light. I grabbed my towel and walked out my room. the hallway is dark and I feel something is looking at me. I could feel fear and dread creep up my Soul. My eyes found the light and I flicked the lights open. I scanned the empty hallway. I felt some relief when nothing was there. I walked to my brother's door and opened it. My brother laid in bed sleeping peacefully. I felt a little jealous. He is lucky that he doesn't have to deal with what I have. Sure he get's bullied at school (and anger issues) but he has friends. He's much smarter than me and much more loved than me. He has something to look forward to. I don't. I'm nothing to him. I'm nothing to anyone. The only thing I am is being a burden. If I could kill myself, I would. But that would be bad. My family will be devastated. Or happy, hell if I know. It's normal. The passing thought of slicing my throat with a knife every time I pass one or something. But I couldn't bring myself to end it.

 _It's just depression_. I told myself. Despite the overwhelming feeling of it being wrong. I felt that familiar pain in my chest and sighed. There I go again. Overthinking things. But when have I not? Besides, it's not me talking. It's my depression. Worthlessness, emptiness and guilt. Those feelings that comes with the problem in one big wrapped up package. I know it's not true but what I have makes me think so. I snapped myself back to reality and flicked the bedroom light open in his room and left. The less talking needed the better.

I stepped into the shower and shiver at the cold water hitting my exposed back. I quickly took a shower and looked myself in the mirror. I look at my reflection. My pale face stared back. My jet black hair wet under the shower. My emerald eyes showing nothing inside, no life. Just a husk. I brushed my hand on my freckles and frowned. I'm the only who has them in my family and in my school. My mom said it means in special but lately, I'm having a hard time believing that. People hate me for it. I'm not the same as everyone else. I know no one is the same but at least they have something good about themselves. Unlike me. I look like I don't belong here and I don't. I know I don't. 

I shook my head in frustration. This is why i don't like to think. I quickly washed up and stepped out of the bathroom only to be met with my brother's glare. 

"What took you so long to wake me up!" he yelled at me and i stared back with annoyance. 

"I did. You just didn't want to wake up." I said back bitterly. I'm sorry Alex but I have no filter. "I'm out now so go ahead." I said and pushed passed him and strode back to my room. "And hurry up! I don't want to be late!" i yelled at him without looking at him.

I walk into my room and lock the door. I sighed tiredly. This is why i don't want to talk so much. Irritability. I can irritated almost all the time. Anything, from loud noises or people, set me off and I snapped. I avoid them all to avoid me snapping at them. It's also another reason I wear headphones all the time. I don't want to snap at anyone. It's for my sake and theirs. But they don't understand. They don't know what it feels like so they don't know. They lie. They lie when they said that they felt it. No one I know feels the same way. Not even my mom. Yeah, she's depressed but only recently. I've been dealing with this since elementary school. So sorry if I have trust issues. They don't feel it full force. Not like me. I've seen what depression can do. What the end product of it if it's not treated.

I dried myself and put on my school clothes. All the while thinking, letting my thoughts drift off.

People die from depression. Suicide. I'm at the brink of it. Suicidal thoughts. It's only the matter of time before I couldn't take it anymore. the only reason I'm not dead in a bathtub or on the ceiling fan is because of my mind. I know what it can lead. I know what it can do. I know. Because of this, i deal with it. I deal with it my way. Drowning out my thoughts with what I love, busying myself with other mediocre things. They don't understand. No one does.

I blinked when i noticed I'm dressed. I sighed and grabbed my backpack. I do things on auto pilot all the time. This doesn't worry me anymore.

~~~ 

I sat in the car with my brother. I was waiting for my dad to drive us to school. I would've walked but everyone- my family- say's it's too dangerous. I looked out the window while my brother tried desperately to get my attention. It's not that i don't care about him. It's just that I don;t want to hurt him. That and I have no interest what he wanted to say. My dad finally got into the car and started the engine. We drove in silence but for different reasons. My dad was tired after just being woken up. My brother didn't know what to say so he keeps quiet. Me? I am scared of my dad. Call it childhood trauma if you will but I'm scared of him. It's like walking on eggshells with him. I pick my words, giving him what he wanted to hear but make sure that my fear is discreet. Sure he's my dad but I'm a good actor. He get's suspicious at times but he's to busy to think to much of it. He says he knows me. Sure, yeah he does, but not where it counts. Never where it counts.

He drops us off at school. My brother left with a goodbye and ran off. I look at my dad. It's been a while since my brother said 'I love you' to my dad when going to school. I know why, he doesn't. My brother is kinda blind when seeing emotions. My dad keeps expecting an 'I love you' from him but never got one. Mostly because it would be a lie. See, I'm not the only one who's scared of my dad. Like my brother, he has a temper. So do I. What? they need to come from somewhere. So he get's mad easily and well...

I gulped and flinched slightly at an incoming memory. I refused the urge to touch my legs. It's not abuse, it's punishment. I get that but there are better ways other than the belt. It entitles fear but fear can only go so far. Yeah we behave when we're near him but at what cost? No love. In my opinion anyway. You can't have love in fear induced haze. We're not victims of stockholm syndrome. Anyway, he's scared and being a teenager means we started feeling rebellious. So, saying 'I love you' when you actually don't love them anymore is like lying through your teeth. We'd rather not lie six days a week on a regular basis.

My dad dropped me off at my school. I stepped out of the car and look over my school. I sigh and waved my dad goodbye.

"Bye! Love you!" I yelled quickly and ran off. I faintly hear him say "Love you to.". I frowned. I wonder if it's real or not. I sighed and put on a fake and bright smile while waving and greeting everyone.

Like clockwork. Let's go through the motions.


	3. Pretend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS PURELY FANFICTION! DON'T THINK OF ANY IDEAS! IT'S ALL FOR FUN! OKAY!? Please don't take this seriously. I need some space to do my own thing without worrying about judging or criticism from others. I need my own space.

I walk through the school gates with a wide smile that didn't quite reach my ears. I waved hello to everybody, some greeted back while most just ignored me. I walk past them, fully knowing the weird looks being thrown at me. I know that people don't like me in general. And me saying hi to everybody eventhough I don't know them makes me even weirder. It's not like I haven't tried to fit in. I did try. I tried my best but no one wanted me to be their friend. It would make sense. I'm not useful to anyone. Even the teachers wanted to get rid of me. I've been put in groups by them one to many times. They did it for pity honestly. They just wanted me to get the point nothing else. It's not like I didn't anything in that group anyway. They don't let me do anything. They just tell me to sit silently while they work. Maybe if I'm lucky I get to hold the sheet or let me explain the project given. I'm useless to them and everyone.

I sigh and put on a smile. They don't need to know. No one needs to know. They don't understand. I sat in the assembly listening what the teacher says and going through the motions. Honestly, I wasn't even listening. I just drowned them out. It's a wonder why I'm still here. My grades are average and yet it's not enough. It's never enough. I don't tag myself as a rule breaker either. I'm not a goody two shoes either. I'm sure I behave normally but no one wanted someone who won't defend them for their wrong doings. I noticed that in this school, if you have a title like a prefect or class leader, you are more likely to have friends. Only of you can defend our friends if they ever did wrong. That means not doing your job, what power and responsibility given to you. I don't want that. I take trust seriously. If I can't be trusted with that kind of responsibility, then count me out. I would rather be lonely than be a a trust breaker. 

The assembly ended and we all walked into class. I walk up the stairs with my head down while others around me chatted happily among each other. I don't like to talk much and my voice has gotten rough and gravely from the lack of use. I also don't want to talk mostly because I gave up talking. No one wanted to listen to me so why bother? It's just a waste of air and energy. I did try to start a conversation with everyone. I tried but it's like I'm not there. Like a ghost talking. They ignore me indefinitely. And they have the nerve to say _I_ don't want to social. I honestly did try. They ignored me. I guess i just don't understand why. I walk into class and looked around my classroom. The girls are chatting among themselves while the boys are playing around and acting like monkeys. I shook my head and sat down at my table. The table's around me are empty of chairs. The teachers thought it would be a good idea to arrange the tables in groups. But it's not. Sure students can discus among themselves about their homework but what about the ones who don't have friends? Well the answer. We deal with it. But the students at my group left me to be with their friends. So I sit alone at my desk in silence watching everyone. I hardly ever open my mouth unlike what people think. I don't talk much, not anymore. I answer and question. No small talk, no gossip. It's not my style. Maybe that's why no one wants to be my friend. I don't gossip or talk about guy stuff. But it's just not me. I don't want to pretend that i care about those things.

So you must be wondering, then what are you pretending? Easy, I'm pretending that I'm fine when I'm not. It's not hard really. No one knows me so no one cares. The class is too noisy and I cringed. I hate loud noises that includes the classroom. I know males mature later than girls but even the girls are loud. No difference at all.

The teacher walked in and stared the lesson. I sighed inaudibly and put on a bright smile while greeting the teacher. They greeted back and the lesson started. Time to start.

~~~

I took a bite out of my waffle and ate silently. I ate near the small park in our school. It's not really a park, more like an area where there are trees and a few benches and tables. I sat on one of the chairs doing nothing but eating and staring at nothing. I look around me where groups of other students are scattered around. No one is alone. They're either with only one friend or more. I swallowed my food and sighed inaudibly. I crumple up the plastic wrapper and stood up. I threw the wrapper in the trash and walked off with my hands in my pockets. I don't really have a destination. Which is very unlike me. I don't really like walking around aimlessly.

Usually I have somewhere to go. I'm not like the other students where they love to walk around talking with nowhere in mind. I would rather go somewhere. Call it something my dad instilled in me. Even when going out with my family, I get anoyyed when we just walked but we don't buy anything. There was no reason to go shopping if we're just gonna look around without knowing what to look for. What's annoying is that it was my parents - or specifically my dad -  who taught me to have a goal or plan what to do when going out. And yet when I ask them why are we walking around without doing anything, they tell me off. "Just follow" they say. I eventually gave up and just plug my ears with my headphones.

My headphones/earphones. Why do I have them all the time? Easy. I love music. I don't sing anymore but i still love music, they calm me down. Not only that, because of my depression I get irritated easily. I snap at everything. To avoid that, i block them out. But my parents/old folks hate it. They say that i don't pay attention when they talk. Talk about what? The only thing they ever talk about is my grades. If not then it's only when they wanted me to do something or ask something. No small talk, no chats, no nothing. Besides, it's not like they want me to talk. If i don't use my headphones, I'll snap at everything. My brother is annoying as hell. So I got two choices, be a bitch and snap at everyone and everything all the time or be silent and listen to music. Pro; I don't snap at anyone, I'm silent just like everyone wanted me to be, I'm cam and tolerate things easier. Con; irritate my parents, can't hear what my parents are asking me- rather telling me- to do, be like a disobedient child.

Yeah, guess what I chose. I don't wan to be angry at anyone. Besides, no one wanted me to talk anyway. I be silent, don't butt in on conversations through shear boredom, I get to listen to music. It's a win-win.

I walk for a moment and found myself in front of my counselor's office. I stood for a moment. Maybe I can have someone to talk to. I knocked on the door and waited after I heard a reply from the inside. Inside was cosy and warm. There's a fish tank with a couple of fishes swimming around. A few bean bags laid against the wall where a painting was hanged above it. A small fountain stood near the door. The calming sound of water really helps a bit without anyone knowing. A woman around her 40's walked to the door and looked at me, clearly surprise on her face. I wonder if I could see annoyance in her eyes too.

"Oh Sean, i wasn't expecting you." she said in a tone I have yet to recognize. But i could hear exhaustion in her tone, maybe a little annoyance? "Do you need anything?" she asked.

I shook my head with a small smile. "No, I was just wondering if we could have our session?" I said. I use to have counselor session with her when i have a habit of coming late to school a while back. I don't really need to hear the same things over and over again but I need someone to talk to. Teacher's sometimes tolerate me. Sometimes, this was not one of those times.

"Oh um.. sorry Sean but I have a ton of work to do." She looked behind her where I could see a couple piles of paper scattered on the table. She looked back at me with a guilty look but not the guilt I hoped. "I'm sorry. Maybe next time? I have a ton of work to do." her tone sound apologetic and guilty but her body language says she wants me gone. I nodded in understanding at the silent plea.

"Sure." I smiled but my tone is a bit flat. i was about to walk away when she grabbed my arm. I look at her in question.

"How are your parents?" She asked and I sighed internally.

I stood a bit straighter. "They're busy. My mom is a bit stresses lately with work and my dad is home late as always." I shrugged and she looked at me with sympathy. I resisted the urge to turn away and scoff.

"I'm sorry. Did-did they sent you to see a doctor?" she asked and I shook my head. She was the first to know I have depression and had done something about it. It happened when I broke down on stage while doing a public speech at the assembly a while ago. I got frustrated when no one paid attention to what I'm saying when i stated the symptoms of depression and how to prevent it. I got frustrated because they don't know. They don't know how serious this is. I guess my words were kind of concerning to the teachers who were listening intently and gasped in shock when I cried. Like cried real tears. I made it worse when that happened. Not that it matters. No one cared and for got about it after a week. But the other teachers were concerned about me when i cried and told the counselor about it. She wasn't there but from what she told me, the other teachers were very concerned about me and as a teacher who helps students she is entitled to help. Entitled. Something tells me she wouldn't have helped if she wasn't in this job. Even so...

"No, they didn't have the time." _'or they forgot'_ that's what i said but my mind told me something else. I don't know why. My mom said it's just a 'phase' when I know better but I didn't say anything. 

She looked at me sadly. "Well, tell them you have to." she informed and I nodded.

"I know." I sighed but inside I think differently. ' _Not gonna happen._ '

She pat my back and walked back inside and I sighed and walked off.

~~~ 

I sat in class in silent as the teacher spoke. I tried to pay attention but why does it matter? I forget things easily and I have a short attention span. I can't focus on anything. I don't know if I'm always like this or it's because of my depression. Difficulty concentrating is one of the symptoms. I always had trouble picking things up but now it's almost impossible. I'm not even interested in my favorite subject anymore. The teachers gave us some problems to solve and I got right on it. I took out my exercise book and my textbook and started to do it.

I had problem in the hard bits and I scanned some examples on the textbook. Why _math_!? I'm no good at math! I look up to see what the others were doing. The boys are playing around as usual but I can see that they are discussing among themselves about the questions. The girls are doing fairly well. Well, girls do tend to discuss about everything. I look at the empty tables in front of me and sighed. No one really wanted to sit next to me. I'm like a contagious virus or something. They sure act like I am anyway. Some even pushed their friends near me only for them to run away. I only sported a poker face maybe an anoyyed one but I never really showed that it got to me. I want to discuss but they shut me out. I remember the many, many times they pretended that I'm not there when I tried to get their attention. I don't know what to do. I don't want the teacher to yell at me saying that I'm bad at math. _Sorry_  but I don't have the luxury of friends like everyone else. I'm not like everyone else. See where I live, the concept of depression falls to deaf ears. No one I have heard about have even experience depression which is good I guess. But that means when i tell them that I'm depressed, they brush it off as a phase. Even one of the smartest girls in class, who clearly knows what it is, didn't take it seriously. I just wish someone would talk to me, listen to me. And I wish I could communicate better.

I realized that after months of less talking that I've lost the ability to talk normally. Well, normal in others. I started talking in my own lingo. Like nerd talk or jazz talk. I've spent my talking in my head so I lost the ability to talk in a way others recognize. So after a few failed attempts in talking, I gave up. I no longer talked for more than a few minute to answer questions or ask a question. No more explaining about science, no more talking about what I'm passionate in, no more _talking_. It won't matter anyway. No one will understand. 

Maybe the reason no one wanted to talk to me is because of myself?

I sagged in my seat with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth. _Wow_. Maybe that's why. The problem is me. That got bad _fast_. No wonder I have no friends. I held back tears, which was easy since I'm at school. So, the problem is me. Even my own family couldn't understand me when I talk. To them, I'm talking in a different language. I keep trying to push my language in their face. We're not the same. So, no one _could_ understand me even if they _wanted_ to.

I growled silently. _No_. Don't think about that. I quickly finished the problems and went on with they day.

~~~

I stopped typing on my computer and let out a tired sigh. I'm home, it's currently 9 pm and I can't sleep. As always. I was typing in my account. It's the new chapter of my new story. I wonder if it will ever get finished? I chuckled as I leaned on my hand which is on my leg. Maybe not. I'm at a writing slump now. It's call writers block and it's tough. I couldn't get the words or ideas flowing and I've been trying to write. I sighed and save my progress. Maybe I'll continue later. It's not like it's a job. More like a hobby or something to pass the time. Kinda a way where I could talk freely with words people understand. The community I'm in knows my kind of talk and I was able to say what I want- er write what I want. It's nice to talk with someone who understands my talk. I even discussed about the affects of physiology with someone who is just as informed. It's nice to talk easily. Even if I'm not vibrating my vocal cords. I wonder if I had to result in talking in hands. Um, sign language. But not many people know that to. Only mute and deaf people. But the internet is nice though. Even if I don't know who I'm discussing with, it's nice to talk freely without worrying about offending or making the other confused and uncomfortable.

I sighed and closed the tab an opened up YouTube. It's been forever since I've watched YouTube. I've only been reading. It's been what? A year? Maybe more? I miss a few things about it like my new favorite Youtubers. I opened up Jacksepticeye first. Immediately after I clicked on a video, I was bombarded with the loudest intro ever. As I watched him, I smiled and laughed along at the jokes and funny commentary. See, he is a gaming youtuber. He plays games and comments about it. I love his cheery personality and loud voice. Not to mention he's awesome! He does things 'Like A Boss!'.

I smiled as his loud voice assaulted my ears through my headphones. My parents don't really understand why we watch people play games. Well, I don't really watch it for the game. More for the person playing the game. Their personality really makes me smile. Especially Jacksepticeye and Markiplier. They both are funny and quirky in their own little way. Even with my depression, watching them make me smile and make my heart flutter with happiness. The best thing is that they upload twice a day so I can laugh four times a day. No one understand why I watch them and they never will. They make me happy when I'm sad and I can relate. They speak my language per say. My parents probably won't approve of them but I don;t care. I love them. They make me happy and keep me company. I wonder if I could ever meet them? Or maybe buy their merchandise? Probably not. I don;t have money or the means for it. But I would love to cuddle with a septiceye Sam and a Tiny Box Tim. I watch other channels but I watch them on a daily basis. A touch of happiness everyday. Like an anti depression pil where they give me that happiness chemical. What's it called again? Matpat said it a few times but I keep forgetting.

Ah Matpat aka The Game Theorist. My weekly dose of science and knowledge. I love his scientific wording and analysis. I wonder if anyone in my school knows him better yet understand what he's rambling about. Maybe not. I wonder how much longer do I have to pretend? I'm getting tired of pretending like I'm fine. But what can do? No one understands and they never will. I glanced at a small notebook that laid on my desk. I grabbed it and read the front. A strip of paper with bad hand writing.

' **My Dairy.** '

I opened it and skimmed through all of my handwriting. Most of it depressing thoughts. It's more of a journal where I write my rants. I read through some of them with hazy eyes. I remember writing most of these in pain. I never wrote it when I'm happy because I was able to express myself without holding back. Not like sadness or anger. So most of these are sad and depressing. But one page stands out. They're a jumble of words with scratchy handwriting. The words are what got to me.

" _this is affecting me too much. Can't think, can't write, can't talk. Fear. Being forced to choose the best way out. Thinking, quiet. Can't let anyone know what I'm going through.They'll think I'm stupid. Breakdowns. Numbness. Tears. Pain. Trapped. Stay strong. Stay positive. Too much through. Must keep going. I can survive. I have to. No way out. Reality. No help. No comfert. Panic. Can't breathe. Must calm down. Or else. Insanity comes. Just keep quiet. Forever. Must forget. everything. No one knows._ "

I read those jumble of words that are so bad it's hard to read it. I'm just surprised I was coherent enough to writ in my breakdown that day. I sobbed so hard after that. I forgot why I was so upset. That was the whole point. I'm lucky I was able to forget all the bad stuff that's happened. It's not in detail but I think something happened that made me give up. That I felt trapped? That I felt so bad? So _hurt_? I wonder why. I close the book and kept it. Best to not think about it. I spend so much time forgetting that I don't to know.

I spend the next hour or so watching them before I was ready to pass out. I check my phone. 3 am. Yeah, that's about right. Can't really sleep before. I tried. It's always the 3-6 am span where I could sleep. If not I'f be tossing and turning in bed until 3-6. No sleep. Yeah. Restlessness. Depression sucks balls!

I laid in bed with my nightlight on and hugged my pillow tightly. My eyes was having a hard time closing before I pass out from exhaustion. Just another day of pretending.


End file.
